


a nonbinary bimbo twink walks into a bar...

by kittyblushes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Dehumanization, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Incest, In Public, Incest Play, Leather Kink, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Objectification, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Sadism, Size Difference, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyblushes/pseuds/kittyblushes
Summary: Nonbinary trans boy bimbo Dolli gets left all alone at the bar for their 19th birthday. Luckily they find a very friendly group of older men willing to buy them drinks--and objectify, degrade, and grope them the way they need.Title is goofier than the fic.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108





	a nonbinary bimbo twink walks into a bar...

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is mostly disgusting public foreplay. The main character, Dolli, is trans/nonbinary boy who uses they pronouns in daily situations (and in the narration), but loves being dehumanized and called "it"//treated like an object. The main character's gender bullshit is very much taken from my own experience, but may upset or trigger some people. (They are never misgendered, and never will be, beyond de-gendering them in a specific way that they like, because that's a hard limit for me as an author. Lol.)  
> This has not been beta'd, and I wrote it on edibles, so like, let's just see how coherent this is. If anyone has any ideas for the second chapter, please comment; I'd like to explore trauma play (all fictional!!!) as well as age play and incest talk some more. Also, drugging. I'll add disclaimers and warnings as needed.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS//DISCLAIMER IN THE END NOTES. Kinda spoiler-y.

“Damn, kid,” comes an appreciative low rumble behind them. They turn, still dancing, and smile at the speaker, latching onto praise and the warm, scratchy bass of the strange man’s voice. Strange older man, they notice: an older, broader, probably much stronger man, considering the thickness of his arms. Dolli would put him at 45 years old and just above six feet tall--a whole foot and a half taller than themself. They keep dancing, loving the way this random man drinks in their swaying hips and thick thighs. He seems to particularly appreciate how the college student’s nipple piercings show through their sheer pink crop top and how the straps of their hot pink thong poke out above the top of their icy blue latex skirt. He puts one hand on their tiny waist, and Dolli feels how rough his hand is through their fishnets.  
“You even old enough to be here, honey?” he asks.  
“The bouncers seem to think so. I got a wristband, don’t I?” They lower their voice, leaning in. “Though technically I’m not old enough to order a drink.”  
He chuckles. “Sober tonight, then?”  
“I never said that.”  
“What’ll you have?”  
“Whiskey.”  
He says something under his breath that could be good boy as he turns back toward the bar to order. In a moment, they clink their whiskeys together. Dolli thanks him.  
“It’s actually my birthday today,” Dolli admits.  
“Twenty?”  
“Nineteen!” Dolli beams. “My friends took me out here to celebrate, but they got a little distracted by each other.” Dolli gestures with their glass toward a couple of androgynous 20-somethings making out, then takes a swig of whiskey. They pull a face. “They said they want to ‘head home’ soon. But I don’t really feel like leaving yet...”  
“Poor dear,” he says, voice tinged with sympathy. “Well, if you’d like some company and don’t mind hanging around with a bunch of dads, my table’s back that way.”  
Dolli giggles. “I tend to get along better with moms, but I could give it a try. I’m Dolli, by the way.”  
“Nice to meet you, Dolli. I’m Bill,” he shakes their hand, his more or less enveloping the teenager’s tiny one. He leads them back to a dark corner of the bar with a hand on the small of their back, his rough palm heating the exposed skin there. “And I can’t imagine your friends’ fathers not loving you,” he adds in a low tone.  
Dolli giggles. “Whatcha mean?” They twirl a strand of their long red hair around manicured fingers.  
“Well, you know. You’re so...” The hand on their back travels lower, squeezes their ass. They honest-to-God squeak, then giggle again. “...Polite,” he finishes. “How you kept thanking me for one little drink. Dads eat that up.”  
“Really?”  
“Of course. I for one love a boy with good manners. One who knows their place.”  
Dolli shivers.  
They arrive at the table and Bill introduces them. “Now, guys, this is Dolli. Dolli just turned nineteen today, but their little friends have abandoned them.”  
The four men at the table all check Dolli out openly, the looks in their eyes ranging from appreciative to predatory.  
“We don’t wanna leave a kid all alone on their birthday, right?”   
“Definitely not,” one answers with a grin. “Cute lil thing like that could get in trouble all alone. My name’s Mike, sweetheart.” He takes their hand and kisses the back; they blush.  
“Oh, hi Mike! Nice to meet you!”  
The rest introduce themselves and wish Dolli a happy birthday, and someone suggests they each buy the teen a round to celebrate.  
“I’m, uh, not the most experienced drinker,” Dolli admits sheepishly, “so don’t order me anything too strong, ‘kay guys? But I can do a few rounds! That sounds fun.”  
The men cheer, and one heads to the bar to get the first round. Dolli takes his seat when he gets up, now between Bill and a man in leather. They compliment the man’s jacket, and he smirks.  
“You like leather, huh, Dolli? Is that why you’re wearing this?” He hooks a finger in the O-ring on Dolli’s thick leather collar, pulling them forward. They gasp, and the men at the table laugh.  
“Mike was right. Something as cute as you could get in so much trouble around here.”  
“S-something as cute as me?” they repeat. Their voice is a bit breathless.  
“Mhm. You’re named after a toy, ain’tya kid?”  
“Yessir,” they murmur. Someone at the table grunts.  
“You love being a toy, don’tcha?”  
The last man comes back with a tray of drinks just as Dolli starts stuttering a response.  
“Oh, good, Johnny’s back. Dolli was about to tell us how much it likes being a toy,” the man in leather says casually over the poor teen’s head. He picks them up easily--they weigh just under 100lbs--and repositions them on his lap. Again, the men laugh.  
“Is that so?” Johnny asks. They nod, and he says, “Is that why you’re dressed like a little plastic whore?”  
Dolli whines quietly, their eyes wide and need written all over their face.  
“You should answer adults when we speak to you,” the man in leather growls in their ear.  
“Yessir!” Dolli squeaks. “Um, yes, um, that’s… that’s why.”  
“That’s why what?”  
“Th-that’s why I’m dressed up like a little plastic whore, sir.”  
“Good toy.” Johnny lifts a particularly tall glass to their lips, and they obediently drink. When they finish the glass, they hiccup, then cover their mouth in embarrassment.  
“Someone’s eager,” Mike says, sliding over a bottle of beer. “Here, baby. Take mine.”  
They look around for general approval from the table. “Can I?”  
“Oh, so cute. Bill, the toy you found is asking permission,” Johnny says. “Yes, Dolli, take the nice man’s drink. You’ll take whatever we give you, won’t you, kid?”  
Dolli nods and accepts it. “Thank you, Mr. Mike!”  
“Aw, sweetie, you’re welcome. No need to be so formal with me, though. Just call me Uncle Mike.”  
Their cheeks, already a bit pink from all the liquor, turn a deep red.  
“I think ya hit a button there,” the man in leather says darkly.  
“Um…”  
“Wrap your lips around your uncle’s bottle.” He’s making no attempt to lower his voice. “Take it in your mouth for Daddy,” the man says. Bill slaps his arm, but despite--or perhaps because of--how packed it is, no one beyond the table seems to notice what’s going on in their dark little corner of the bar.  
“Yes, Daddy,” Dolli says, and wraps their plump glossy lips around the neck of the bottle. The table of men grunts; one of them whistles and another applauds. Then Dolli bats their giant eyelashes and takes the bottle just a bit deeper, all while drinking. They pull off and giggle.  
“You little fucking tease,” the man grunts. Dolli can feel how hard he is beneath them. A flimsy pink thong is the only thing separating their aching pussy from all that leather. “Again,” he instructs.  
They wrap their lips back around the glass, guarding it from their teeth like a good boy, and bob and twist the bottle til it’s half empty. When they try to pull off this time, though, the man in leather shoves it back down. They gag hard on the glass bottle as he pours the rest of the beer down their throat, then moan. Their pussy gushes.  
“Damn thing just came in my lap,” he says, voice dripping with mock irritation. He pulls the bottle out just as he slides a hand under Dolli’s skirt. He rubs them for a second through their panties as they catch their breath, then pulls his hand away wet to show the table. “This is Italian leather, you know. You really should try harder not to fuck it up.”  
“Sorry, Daddy,” Dolli says, dazed. The lower half of their face is smeared with spit and bubblegum pink lipstick. They have the beginnings of mascara tears running down their face.  
“Oh, be nice,” Mike chastises him. He scoops Dolli up and holds them in his own lap. In a soft voice, he says, “Dolli, baby, you know how to clean up after yourself, right?”  
They nod dumbly and look around for napkins, but the table doesn’t have any.  
“Uncle Mike, there’s no napkins,” they say. Mike gets harder beneath them, and his hands grip harder around their waist, fingers planting bruises on the teenager’s sides.   
“That’s okay,” the man in leather says. He grabs them by the pigtails and pulls their face to his lap. The slick they left earlier ruins their makeup further, and their cheek polishes the leather. Their thick ass is in the air, skirt flipped up to show off their soaked thong and something shiny underneath it. Bill grabs a handful of ass in each hand and spreads their cheeks apart.  
“It’s plugged,” Bill announces happily. “I knew I found a good whore when I saw its pigtails and nipple studs, but fuck.”  
“Of course it’s a good whore,” the man in leather grunts as he grinds up into their face. “Didn’t you see it when Mike said to call him its uncle? How it moaned when I first called in an object? Of course it couldn’t resist coming to a bar with one of its holes already stuffed. It’s probably had its holes stuffed since it was, like, ten.” Dolli’s hips buck and it moans from between his legs. He yanks it up, again by the pigtails. “I’m right, aren’t I, Dolli the sex doll? That why you named yourself that? Or did your real daddy call you that when he tucked you in at night?”  
Dolli pants and sniffles, black tears rolling down their rosy cheeks.  
Bill spanks them hard. “You gonna answer him?”  
“Yes, Mister!” they cry. “Sorry! I, I… nuh uh, Daddy. I picked the name. Dolli with an i, cus it’s cute and makes me feel like a fucktoy.” Their voice is small and trembling when they add, “My real uncle always said I looked like a pretty little doll.”  
The men moan.  
“Fuck,” the man in leather grunts. “Bill, it was your find--what’d’ya say we use your house? There’s a lot that I want to do to this kid that I can’t get away with here.”  
Dolli whimpers, but everyone ignores it. Bill answers over their head that his place is fine and he’s got plenty of amenities, and all the men agree. The man in leather looks back down at their shared toy and says, “You can come with me on my bike. I don’t have a helmet for you, but I doubt there’s anything floating around in that pretty little head of yours worth protecting, anyway.” He taps his fist against their head, pretending to check if it’s empty.  
Dolli giggles. “You’re right, Daddy, but I really shouldn’t ride without a helmet…”  
“It’s right,” Bill agrees. “More importantly, though, you’ll just kidnap the dumb thing and then none of us will get to use it. We’ll carpool in Mike’s truck cus he’s sober. You wanna kidnap the whore, do it after.”  
“Depends how it performs,” the man in leather says, tone noncommittal. They all head to Bill’s.

**Author's Note:**

> One character taunts Dolli, saying their sluttiness is probably a result of incest and child abuse/underage sex. Dolli likes being degraded that way, and kind of confirms that he's right, but it's not explored in this chapter.
> 
> Please mind: objectification/dollification of a nonbinary guy by a bunch of cis men (character is happily feminine and is not degraded for being feminine, just for being slutty); heavy degradation; rape talk; dubious consent; drinking; public play; and some light age and incest play.


End file.
